Never Fully Human
by WanderingAureole
Summary: After the death of Voldemort, the wizarding world seems to have become a peaceful place, but a new group has arisen, trying to purge the wizarding community of half-breeds solely, putting innocent lives in danger.
1. Chapter 1

1 As the golden rays of sun climbed over the rooftops of a little suburb near London, a hooded figure with a beautiful, elegant gait made her way througout the streetse where children awaited their rides to school and men and women in suits swiftly walked to work, oblivious to everyone around them. Nobody noticed the thooded figure, and although she wasn't used to being ignored, this didn't bother her. The only thing she worried about was the small babe wrapped in her arms.

Passing house after house, the figure began to sprint as paranoia swept over her. Still, no one noticed.

Finally, though, it seemed she'd reached her destination for she stopped suddenly at an enormous establishment called Miss Margaret's Home for Orphaned Girls. Ancient bricks covered in endless vines made up the three-story building. The woman slowly let down her hood, revealing silvery blonde hair and a stunningly beautiful face. With overwhelming love in her eyes, she gazed down at the girl. Her baby was as shockingly beautiful. Her hair was a gleaming golden brown– the color of wheat almost. Her face reflected nearly all of her mother's beauty, though she possessed the color of her father's hair and eyes.

As a tear slid down the mother's face, she set the child on the ancient porch. The glowing tear fell on the child's cheek, and in a strange accent, she said, "You will be protected, Axelle."

Her glowing hair swept over the child's face, and she became a silvery bluras the mother knocked loudly on the orphanage door.

Men stared after the blindingly beautiful creature as she raced down the street. The baby began to wail loudly as a plump, flushed woman opened the front door. She gasped and scooped up the child in own swift movement. A note in elegant, slanted handwriting was attatched to the blanket that surrounded the child.


	2. Chapter 2

1 The ancient springs beneath me creaked loudly as I slowly made my way out of bed. My off-white, donated nightgown flowed smoothly towards my ankles while I slowly climbed out of bed. The slightly wrinkled calender hanging on the wall above my bed told me that in just one moth's time, I would turn eleven. June seventeenth was my birthday, and although I knew to expect nothing more than a simple cupcake with a candle sticking out, it was nonetheless special.

My roommate, Charlotte, was still fast asleep– it was a Saturday, after all– as I made my way to our shared full-length mirror. A slim, willowy girl with radiant, slightly tanned skin stared back. Her shiny, gold-streaked hair fell straight down her back and gold-flecked, brown eyes were surrounded by thick lashes. I liked what I saw, but at times, I knew the other girls could see every one of my flaws though I tried to conceal them. The older girls yanked at my hair claiming it needed cut– that it was too long. They claimed my skin was a glowing orange even though my tan isn't fake. However, the younger girls seemed enchanted by my appearance, always wanting to braid my hair. Without examining my appearance for too long, I began to brush out the tangles with ease, and, knowing I'd be doing a few– or more than few– chores today, I slid my hair back into a ponytail. The clothes in my closet were all old, tarnished donations from charitable individuals. Without much thought, I slid into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt for it was a slightly chilly spring day.

The hallway was vacant for one as I made my way to the third-story bathroom. Like everywhere else in the house, it was old. Rust began to crawl on the sink knobs, and the scent of mold was ever present.

Without acknowledging the rust or moldy scent, I brushed my teeth and splashed my face with cold water.

"Axelle! Get down here and help me fold some clothes!" Miss Margaret, the woman in charge of the orphanage, had spotted me on the landing.

Sighing, I headed downstairs to help her. I was one of the elder girls at the orphanage, and I knew I must set an excellent example for the younger ones– after all, they were more likely to be adopted. However, it had been quite a while since an orphan had been adopted. I never wanted to be adopted because I knew my mother was out there somewhere. "Waiting until it's safe" as she put it in the letter she'd left me.

A mountainous pile of clothes greeted me as I entered the first-story sitting room. Miss Margaret stood over the mound of mostly pink clothes. She was a tall, fat woman with frizzy, dull hair but clever, little blue eyes. I greeted her good morning as I picked up a tiny littly, hot pink shirt and began folding.

The rest of the girls got up slowly, the last of whom joined us at around eleven. Miss Margaret typically was kind enough to let us sleep late on Saturdays but no later than noon. I was more of an early bird which meant more chores for me to do. Breakfast was served around ten and consisted of cold cereal or taster waffles. The budget was tight here at the orphanage so breakfasts weren't that varied or fancy. After breakfast, Charlotte and I cleaned up our shared bedroom.

Charlotte was typically nice, though her temper could flair up unexpectedly. Also, she had an ever present know-it-all attitude which bubbled under the surface of her personality. Large hips dominated her tall farm and not many jeans could fit well on her awkward body shape. Thin brown hair famed chubby cheeks that were often covered in acne. I've often speculated why she possessed such a passive aggressive, know-it-all attitude and came to the conclusion that she remains the oldest unadopted child at the orphanage at fourteen, resulting in insecurities. Whatever the case may be, I tried to stay out of her way.

With a sudden flair of her angry side, Charlotte slammed her shirt onto her bed, causing a slapping sound that resonated throughout the room.

"I can't believe you! You took my shirt _again!_ Where is it?" She shrieked.

I sighed with frustration and said, "I didn't take it, Charlotte! I told you the last time that you simply lost it! I just found it for you the last time!" I yelled back, feeling my palms tingle with warmth.

Charlotte was under the impression that I stole her shirt a couple of weeks ago, even though it had simply been lost, and once I had found it, Charlotte was convinced that I had stolen it.

"Oh my gosh, Axelle, just hand it over! I need it for tomorrow!" Her high-pitched voice pierced my eardrums and began to give me a headache.

"It's not as if you're going to get adopted. The couple's looking for a _toddler!_"It was hurtful what I said, but Charlotte had gotten on my last nerve.

Charlotte grew red-faced and hot as she stomped over to where I was standing. I could see tears welling up in her eyes. My features were stone cold.

"Give me my shirt," she commanded through gritted teeth.

I glared right into her eyes. "I don't have it. Now leave me alone!" I pushed her away from me, and Charlotte fell back a bit.

Then, the unreasonable girl went to slap me as if she were my mother. Anger exploded within me, but Charlotte never slapped me. Her hand was frozen about an inch in front of my face. It was as if there was an invisible wall between Charlotte and myself. Charlotte was flabbergasted, and she tried once more to slap my face but to no avail.

Letting out one last shriek, Charlotte departed, her feet stomping loudly against the wooden floor.

Strange occurrences such as that were the norm for me, although it never ceased to amaze me. I had no idea how I did that, and I was curious to know if it had something to do with my mother. Now that Charlotte had left, I pulled from under my pillow a little wrinkled note. In gorgeous, slanted handwriting, it read:

This is my beautiful daughter, Axelle. Her birthday is June seventeenth. I will miss terribly, but she is not safe with me. When the time is right– when it is safe, we will be reunited once more

With love,

Charity Summers

I had snatched this note from Miss Margaret who'd accidentally left it in her pocket when she put a pair of her jeans in the pile to be washed. Since I was the only Axelle Summers in this orphanage, I knew athat this note was about me. My mother would come back one day. I was sure of it.

"Axelle! Did you take Charlotte's shirt?" Miss Margaret yelled from downstairs.

"No, ma'am!"I yelled back.

Nonetheless, the majority of the girls believed Charlotte and shunned me even more than usual. Luch was silent for me, siting alone, eating my soup and sandwich. Miss Margaret was used to Charlotte's dramatized stories by now and knew the whole incidence would be over with once Charlotte found her shirt.

The rest of the day dragged on slowly as I helped with the dishes, played with some younger girls' hair, swept the third floor, and dusted some shelves in the sitting room. By dinner, I was ravenous, though I had a nagging sens that my time here was drawing to a close. Charlotte was still furious with me, but I could also sense fear mingling within her. Whenever something strange occurred as a result of me, she would ignore it and certainly not tell anyone despite the face that they all knew how strange I was.

The next day, a young couple came to look at the orphaned toddlers playing in their play room. One was a shapely blonde in workout clothes while the other was a tall, dark-haired man in simple jeans and a t-shirt. I glanced frantically at Belle, a fragile, angelic toddler barely two years of age, who hated this place more than anyone. I secretly hoped that she'd get adopted as I headed upstairs with more laundry in my arms.

As fate would have it, she ended up leaving with the couple in merely two weeks. Belle clung to her new mother, and I prayed that one day, I would do the same with Mrs. Charity Summers– my true mother.


	3. Chapter 3

1 In only one week's time, I would be eleven. For some reason, this birthday seemed ominous– as if something were about to happen. The sunlight gleamed brightly through the window, and I walked slowly towards the beautiful sight. I opened the window and breathed in the fresh, hot breeze that carried the scent of grass and flowers.

Charlotte was in the bathroom, and I was all alone, enjoying the silence. However, the silence did not last long.

With a screech, a small scruffy ball flew clumsily through my window. I barely muffled a squeak as I realized the feathery ball was a little brown owl carrying a letter. I was amazed. The owl swooped down onto Charlotte's headboard, and I rushed over to grab the letter. It read:

To:

Miss Axelle Annabelle Summers

Room 34

Miss Margaret's Orphanage for Girls

London

The owl flew quickly away, and I tore the letter open eagerly. There were two pieces of thick parchment. Slowly, I unfolded the parchment.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Miss Summers,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Abigail Bones,

Deputy Headmistress

And at the bottom was scrawled:

Rubeus Hagrid will accompany you shortly to access your savings and retrieve your supplies.

I frowned down at the letter. This must've been some sort of joke. I had never heard of such a place– where they teach _magic! _Hiding it under my pillow, I told no one and decided to wait until this Hagrid fellow decided to show up.

As the days passed and my birthday loomed around the corner, I grew more and more doubtful, and I wondered if it really was a joke– not a very funny one at that. Then, it occurred to me that I might never leave this orphanage until I'm eighteen. This depressed me so much so that I headed to bed early one night, ready to escape my thoughts. However, I didn't fall asleep. A heavy knock resonated throughout the establishment.

I nearly fell out of bed. Rushing over to my window, I discovered a giant man standing at the orphanage door in the twilight.

This must be Mr. Hagrid– I just knew it must be.

In my frilly nightgown, I raced downstairs. Miss Margaret had answered the door and was gazing astonishingly at the giant.

"Axelle? What do you want Axelle for?" Miss Margaret managed to sputter out.

I stood on the landing, gazing at this stranger. His face was surrounded by an enormous beard and in his hand, he carried a holey, pink umbrella.

"Sorry abou' tha'. My name's Rubeus Hagrid, and I'm her to pick up Axelle an' see if she's willin' to go to this school for people– erm– like 'er,"Hagrid said, his speech concealing a secret.

"What school is this?" Miss Margaret frowned suspiciously.

"Uh, London's School fer– fer the Gifted Minds. Jus' opened an' they're wantin'Miss Summers here ta attend," hagrid explained nervously.

"I want to go!" I squeaked frantically.

Miss Margaret, Hagrid, and several of the girls gathered around the TV turned to look at me.

"Well, I might as well get the best education, right?" I reasoned, desperate to get away from this orphanage.

"Tha' settles it them!" Hagrid clapped his enormous hands. "I'll talk to 'er and explain wha' she'll need."

"Wait! What about tuition?" Miss Margaret asked, confused and shocked.

"She gotta scholarship, o' course!" Hagrid replied, shuffling me upstairs.

I scurried upstairs, followed closely by Hagrid, who's every footstep made the stairs groan in protest. I led Hagrid to my room and showed him my letter.

"What is this? Do they really teach magic?" I asked, my voice growing higher.

"Shh... Keep yur voice down!" Hagrid said in hushed voice. "Yur a witch– differen' from yur friends down there. Yur par' o' a whole community who can do magic, an' now, ya've been accepted a' Hogwarts, the finest wizarding school in Britain."

I stared openmouthed at Hagrid for a second and then, regained my composure.

"How-how do I know this is real?" I whispered, eyes wide.

Hagrid smiled and lifted his umbrella. Out of it spewed vibrant blue stars that twinkled as they began floating throughout my bedroom. I gasped in amazement.

"Now, ya'll be able ter do tha' one day. Simple enough. Also, we better ge' a move on, too. We can sta a' the Leaky Cauldron," Hagrid said. "We can't talk abou' it all here. So, ge' changed an' meet me downstairs."

With that, he lumbered downstairs.

This was all so sudden. However, without a second thought, I slipped into jeans and a tank top (it was getting pretty muggy out) and packed some overnight essentials in my rucksack. Within five minutes, I was trampling downstairs. I waved good-bye to the orphaned girls who returned half-hearted waves and slammed the door in Miss Margaret's shocked face.

"So, I really don't know who you are," I told Hagrid as we walked down the street towards downtown London.

"I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds a' Hogwarts. I'm jus' here ta escort ya to Diagon Alley, where ya'll get access to yer savin's account and some school supplies," Hagrid explained.

"So, what type of things will we be getting?" I inquired.

"Jus' look at yer list," Hagrid told me, pointing at the envelope in my hand.

I pulled it out and discovered that I would need such tools as a wand and robes.

"Do such things even exist?" I asked, worry evident in my voice. "And I haven't got a savings account that I know of."

"Sure ya do. Yer father left it for ya in 'is will ta ge' ya through school and such," Hagrid said.

"How do you know about my family? Is my mother still alive? Where is she?" I asked frantically.

"Slow down, slow down," Hagrid said, laughing a booming laugh. "I'll explain once we ge' into the Leaky Cauldron."

I bounded up the street, and getting to the street corner, I awaited Hagrid's lumbering form. It was quite a long distance, and I nearly missed the place if Hagrid hadn't pointed it out. The Leaky Cauldron was dingy, though a gorgeous young woman was the bartender. She smiled warmly as Hagrid and I sat at a lonely table near the back. The place was virtually vacant save for an elderly wizard in a light blue hat reading a strange-looking newspaper.

"What can I get you?"asked the woman her curly black hair framing a mocha-colored face.

"Hey, Angelina, 'ow abou' a nice butterbeer fer me an' some pumpkin juice fer her," Hagrid said.

"No problem." She walked swiftly away.

"So, where's my mum?" I asked.

"She's in hiding. Ya see, yer no' only a witch, Axelle, yer a half-breed as well– like me– though yer half veela an' I'm half giant. Ya see, there's this group o' people who believe tha' wizards are the supreme race and anyone who's half-breed is some sorta abomination if ya will. Yer mum hid ya away an' I'm sure she's in hidin' as well. If they found out abou' ya an' her, they'll kill ya both," Hagrid told me solemnly. "Bu' I wouldn't worry abou' it since so long as yer under the care of Professor Kingsley, current headmaster of Hogwarts, ya'll be safe."

"What's a veela?" I inquired tentatively. I was only half human?

"A magical creature that resembles humans on'y much more beautiful– enchantin' even– though downrigh' scary when mad." Hagrid chuckled.

Angelina came with our drinks. I was a bit skepticalabout a drink known as pumpkin juice though it turned out to be very good.

"So," I said, "as long as I'm at Hogwarts, I'm safe, but I still shouldn't mention I'm half veela?"

"No," said Hagrid after he set down his mug of butterbeer. "Some kids're still against any sorta half-breed. Bes' ta avoid trouble."

I nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

1 I was simply amazed that such a world could've existed right under my nose. Witches and wizards did magic as if it were nothing, and there were numerous gadgets and gizmos that I'd never dreamt of. Diagon Alley was a great cluster of everything within the wizarding world. It was bright and busy. One store sold broomsticks that claimed to possess, "the fastest broomsticks in the world." One sold cauldrons and another strange horns and beetle eyes. I was overwhelmed by the sight.

"Off ter Gringott's firs', Axelle," Hagrid beckoned me towards an enormous marble building. I knew at once that it was a bank.

"Now, yer father, Shiloh Summers, was one o' the brightest students I'd ever heard o'. He worked as a Healer a' St. Mungo's. Though, now tha' yer school age, ya can gain access to the small fortune yer father left ya," Hagrid explained as we entered the building. A small man with pointed ears and an ugly face stood by the door and watched us suspiciously as we walked in.

Gringott's was crawling with busy little men carrying jewels and gold coins. Many normal-sized men were there as well, though I could tell they were simply customers. We joined a line behind a frizzy-haired witch in purple robes.

"Oh!" Hagrid reached into his multi-pocketed coat and retrieved an oddly shaped key which he proceeded to hand to me. "This is yer key ta get into yer account. It's number 265."

"Thanks!" I replied, gazing at the key that once belonged to my father.

"The Ministry o' Magic was keepin' it fer ya until ya went ta Hogwarts," Hagrid explained.

Finally, it was our turn.

"Miss Summers would like ter make a withdrawal," Hagrid told the ugly, little man.

"Key, please, Miss Summers," the man said, gazing down at me from over the top of his desk and reaching down with long, claw-like fingers.

Without a word, I handed over the key. After scrutinizing it for a moment or two, the man looked through a series of names before handing it back to me.

"Come with me," he said in his grubby, high-pitched voice.

We all climbed into a cart that suddenly jolted forward with blinding speed. Pure darkness surrounded us, though at one point, I could have sworn I saw a burst of flame in the distance. As suddenly as we had flown forward, we stopped. Hagrid grabbed the collar of my shirt to keep me from flying forward out the front of the car. We stepped out gingerly and headed towards the vault with a very large door.

"Key, please," said the little man.

I shakily handed over the strange key. Business like, the little man opened my vault, revealing a small mound of gold, silver, and bronze coins. As Hagrid explained how much each coin was worth, I piled a significant amount of coins– galleons, Hagrid called them– and left, ready to shop. Once we exited the dark bank, it was noon and the sunlight nearly blinded me.

"What exactly were those little men?" I knew they couldn't be human though I didn't want to ask Hagrid in front of them.

"Goblins. Bes' not ter mess with them, though they make the bes' sorta swords ya'll ever see," Hagrid explained.

"Also," I went on, "How do you know who my father was?"

"It was all over the paper," said Hagrid. "It was the firs' murder of the wizard supremacists."

I glanced down at my feet. A mixture of anger and fear welled within me. Part of me wanted to bring that group to justice for what they had done to my family while another part of me feared that I would be next. I knew that they were the individuals who viewed Half-breeds as sub-human, unworthy to live– an abomination as Hagrid had put it. I certainly didn't feel like an abomination, and I've never felt more human than I did right now.

"Well, ya migh' as well ge' yer wand, now tha' we're here," said Hagrid, breaking me out of my thoughts and gesturing towards a building labeled as Ollivander's. "His nephew recently took over the place, bu' it's still as good."

It was dimly lit inside and positively filled with shelves upon shelves of small rectangular boxes.

"Hello?" I called tentatively.

A tall young man of about twenty or so with a messy tuft of brown hair appeared from behind a shelf.

"Oh, hello." He smiled and laughed a nervous sort of laugh. "Here for your first wand?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning shyly.

"Alright, let's get your measurements first," Ollivander replied, producing a long measuring tape.

Hagrid faded into the back as the tape measured my arm length, leg length, waist circumference, and everything else on its own as Ollivander sifted through various boxes.

"Ah," he finally said, taking away the tape measure. "Try this. Oak, Unicorn tail, nine and a half inches, flexible."

I took the wand and gave it a slight wave. Several of Ollivander's papers flew off of his desk. Although I expected him to become angry, he simply smiled and took the wand.

"Let's try another." Ollivander grabbed another box. "Holly, dragon heartstring, 8 inches."

I held the wand carefully and waved once more. A stool in the far corner cracked and broke.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly.

"S'alright." Ollivander grabbed yet another wand.

Wand after wand seemed to reject me completely. I began to feel dejected– as if I weren't truly a witch at all– as if Hagrid had made a mistake in taking me– until Ollivander paused.

"I wonder... Hm... Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way." A small light twinkled in his eyes. "Here." From underneath his desk, he produced a light blue box.

"This isn't Ollivander-made. It's from France after Voldemort had murdered a wandmaker in that country. Some of her wands were salvaged and brought here," Ollivander explained, handing me a light, warm wand. "Willow, veela hair, seven and a half inches, good with Charms."

I waved it eagerly, and beautiful blue stars erupted from the tip, floating and enveloping the three of us.

"Perfect, though, veela hair can be unstable so be careful and don't use this out of rage." Ollivander packaged up the wand and waved good-bye.

"Alrigh', next is gettin' yer robes," Hagrid said, pointing towards a quaint little shop.

I bought plenty of robes as well as a winter cloak. They were certainly interesting, and I simply couldn't wait to start wearing them. Afterwards, we went to an apothecary and got a simple potions kit followed by a little cauldron. Flourish and Blotts was after that and turned out to be a fantastic bookstore filled with every sort of book imaginable. Hagrid let me wander around and shop for books in addition to my required textbooks.

As I looked through strange and new books, a taller girl with a freckled face and brown hair came to stand next to me.

"Don't you just love all of these books? My mum takes me here all the time," she said, smiling down at me.

I shrugged. "I don't usually read much, but these are really quite interesting."

"I'm Rose Weasley, by the way." Rose held out her hand.

I shook it. "Axelle Summers."

"That's pretty. Do you go to Hogwarts?"

"I'm starting this upcoming term, do you?" I slowly began to smile. I was making a friend.

"Same here! What house do you think you'll be sorted into? My mum and dad were in Gryffindor, but I secretly want to be in Ravenclaw– that's where all the smart people are," claimed Rose matter-of-factly.

"I don't know any of the houses," I told her. "I just found out I'm a witch yesterday." I giggled uncertainly.

"Oh! Are you Muggle-born? My mum was Muggle-born so I'd understand if you were." Rose peered at me with a set of green eyes.

"I'm not sure what a Muggle is..." I murmured feeling stupider by the second.

"Sorry, non-magic folk, you know." She looked sheepish– not at all arrogant. I decided I quite liked this girl.

"No," I replied. "My dad died when I was young and... I don't know where my mum is."

"Rose?" called a distant woman. "Time to be off!"

"Sorry about that. I'll see you on the train, then?" Rose waved sweetly as I nodded and waved back.

Swiftly, she walked off, leaving me with the thought that at least I'd know one person going to Hogwarts. Sifting through the books, I found one concerning a sport called Quidditch: A Beginner's Guide. I snatched it right away. It was apparent to me that Quidditch was a very popular sport among magical folk as every book in the sports section was about Quidditch. I loved sports, and this immediately gained my interest.

I finished up book shopping and paid for my massive load of textbooks. Carrying my books, Hagrid led me to a small restaurant on the corner to have lunch. I was positively famished.

"I'll pay fer it,"Hagrid offered kindly.

"Thanks, Hagrid! I appreciate it."

As we sat down with our sandwiches, I was prepared to interrogate the half-giant.

"So, was your mum a giant?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, she left when I was around three, though." Hagrid took a large bite of his hamburger, clearly not in the mood to discuss this further.

"Sorry," I muttered, eating my sandwich.

"S'alright, though," Hagrid said once he swallowed his massive bite. "I've met me half-brother a few years back an' tha' was... nice. I'm sure ya'll ge' ta find yer mum soon."

"I sure hope so," I replied, taking a sip of water.

After a minute of silence, I asked Hagrid another question, "So, I was talking to this girl in Flourish and Blotts, and she was talking about these houses at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, there are four houses in Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw," Hagrid explained. "When ya ge' ta Hogwarts, the Sortin' Hat sorts ya ta yer proper house."

I glanced down at my half-eaten sandwich. "Huh," I replied. "I wonder what house I'll be in."

"I wouldn't worry abou' it too much," Hagrid reassured me. "They're all grea'. Great wizards an' witches came from every single one o' them houses. It's basically yer family while ya stay a' Hogwarts."

I blinked down at my sandwich, hoping I'd end up with Rose since I already knew her. Then, I smiled up at Hagrid feeling butterflies suddenly well up within me.

"I'm really excited to go to Hogwarts," I told him before taking another big bite of my sandwich.

"Ya'll really like it there," Hagrid said, beaming. "An' ya should probably get an owl before I forge'. We use 'em fer mail an' such– real useful birds."

An owl? I loved animals, and I'd never owned a pet before.

"Okay!"

A gorgeous barn owl peered at me between small, metal bars. It let out a small _hoot_ as we left Diagon Alley with bags upon bags of magical supplies. As we headed slowly towards the orphanage, Hagrid gave me a wrinkled ticket.

"It's yer ticket fer Hogwarts. Don' lose it, alrigh'?"

I glanced down at the ticket, noticing the odd platform number.

"Nine and three quarters?" I looked curiously at Hagrid.

"Run straigh' a' the pillar between platforms nine an' ten. We can't have Muggles seein' the Hogwarts Express, now can we?"

I nodded in agreement. "Makes sense."


	5. Chapter 5

1 I looked curiously through every one of my books, reading about spells and potions– I wanted to know them all. Also, I read stories about famous witches and wizards, learning their names. I spent much of my time gazing at my owl, whom I named Constellation since she always seemed to be stargazing at the edge of my window.

Constellation was scarcely ever in the same room as Charlotte because I wanted to keep the magical side of me secret. I kept all of my books hidden on my side of the room, and only at night would I dare to read them by flashlight. Quidditch was a sport that appealed to me, and I read about it often. Racing around on broomsticks with all these different balls flying around seemed exhilarating. Perhaps, when I became older, I would join a Quidditch team– that is, if I were any good.

September first came quickly enough with all of my books and materials to keep me busy. On the night before my departure, I told Miss Margaret that I needed a ride to Kings Cross Station to go to my new school. Miss Margaret obliged without questions or comments.

At seven o'clock in the morning, I gathered my luggage and owl and snuck through a sleeping orphanage with Miss Margaret who never commented on the strange owl. We entered her car– the older girl would watch the younger while we were away– and headed off, both of us munching on bagels for breakfast.

"Axelle," Miss Margaret turned towards me seriously. "I've always known you were different– from the moment you arrived at the orphanage. You possess this unnatural yet natural, glowing beauty about you that I can't explain. Be smart, though. Choose your friends wisely and work hard. Don't let your sheltered life make you naive."

Miss Margaret's small yet warm eyes were sincere, and I nodded seriously back.

"Thank you, Miss Margaret. I won't let you down." I managed a small smile through the butterflies raging in my gut.

We arrived at Kings Cross Station with plenty of time to spare. The entire place was packed with people hurrying towards their desired location. For a moment, I was overwhelmed, but Miss Margaret led me through the crowd, and before we reached platforms nine and ten, I gave her a hug farewell. With a sudden nostalgic feeling, I watched her walk away, and once she was out of site, I approached the space between platforms nine and ten. Another family with a large amount of luggage and an owl was walking towards platforms nine and ten as well. A tall man in his thirties with white-blonde hair and a receding hairline stood with a shorter woman and their son who also possessed white-blonde hair.

"Um, hello there," I said shyly. "Could you tell me how to get onto platform nine and three quarters?"

The man turned around with surprise and smiled warmly.

"Of course," he said. "We were just about to head onto the platform ourselves. You see, it's Scorpius's first time at Hogwarts, too." The man gestured towards his son whose vivid hair was slightly disheveled.

"Hello, what's your name?" Scorpius asked, his brilliant blue eyes shy and cautious. His whole family seemed shaken as if some tragic had recently happened.

"Axelle. Axelle Summers." I smiled warmly at the boy.

The woman spoke this time. Dark bangs nearly concealed big, brown eyes.

"What you'll want to do, Axelle, is simply run straight at that pillar and don't slow down," she explained, gesturing towards a solidly built brick wall. "Watch."

Scorpius stepped forward and sprinted lithely towards the wall and simply disappeared. I swallowed hard and jogged lightly after him with closed eyes. Although I expected to crash right into the wall, there was no impact. When I opened my eyes, I beheld a great steaming, red train with billions of families bidding their children farewell as they boarded the train.

Without a second thought, I rushed towards the train and onto one of the carts. My golden eyes scanned the halls for an empty compartment. Finally, I settled, setting Constellation on one of the seats and placing my luggage overhead. As I watched parents hugging and kissing their children good-bye, I began to wonder where my mum was at and if I would ever see her or if I would ever say by to her like that here. Suddenly, the sound of the compartment door opened, break me out of my thoughts. Rose had entered the compartment, followed by two boys of about my age, both with messy black hair. One was obviously older while the other was small, very wide-eyed, and nervous.

"Hello there, Axelle! Thought I'd join you. You looked a bit lonely here by yourself," Rose said, grinning widely.

"Hello." I returned her smile. "How've you been?"

"Pretty fair, I'd say." Rose sat down across from me. "There are my cousins, by the way. Albus"– she gestured towards the smaller boy– "and James."

James sat rather close next to me and said, "Something about you reminds me of our cousin, Victoire, but I can't put my finger on it."

Rose explained, "We have quite a few cousins, you see, so there's always someone to compare to." She laughed and I joined in, feeling more at ease with every passing moment.

"So, Rose, what house do you think you'll end up in?" James asked, his voice possessing an obvious arrogant tone to it, and due to that, I decided straight away that didn't particularly like his attitude.

Rose answered calmly. "Well, I sort of hope to be in Gryffindor because of my father, but Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad, either."

"What about you?" James turned towards me, his bright, green eyes shined with curiosity.

Shrugging, I replied, "I honestly haven't thought about it."

"Well, I'm ini Gryffindor, and it's probably the best house." James grinned.

As the train began moving, a blonde head peered into our compartment.

"Excuse me, but is there room for one more?" Scorpius asked.

"Hi, Scorpius," I said. "I think we can make room. You guys don't mind, do you?"

Albus and Rose shook their heads, though James remained still.

"Thanks." Scorpius smiled shyly and sat next to James once his luggage was secure overhead.

A small silence hung over the compartment as the train gained speed, but it wasn't long before James spoke:

"So, we were just talking about Hogwarts houses. What house do you want to be in, Scorpius?" A sneer was evident in his voice.

"Well, my father was in Slytherin, but I kind of want to be in the house that my mother was in: Ravenclaw, since the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons," Scorpius explained innocently.

James was evidently caught off-guard so the conversation turned to other matters. Rose was a very honest girl with a quick wit about her that I admired. Albus and Scorpius both shared a shy personality that I assumed was a result of first-day nerves. At around mid-afternoon, a trolley full of treats and candy came slowly down the aisle way. Rose, Albus, and James all leapt up to purchase some snacks while Scorpius and I stayed within the compartment. He hesitated, looking unsure for a moment. Then, at last, he seemed to have plucked up some courage.

"Axelle? Can I ask you something?" Scorpius inquired, his vibrant blue eyes wide.

"Um, sure," I replied, suddenly weary.

Quickly, Scorpius said, "You're not fully human, are you?"

My heart rate jumped suddenly, and I whispered, "No. How did you know?"

"Well– you look like you– um– part veela? F-from what I see, anyway." Scorpius looked uncomfortable as a faint blush touched his pale complection.

I nodded. "Don't tell anyone, please." My face conveyed much anxiety.

Scorpius nodded in agreement, still staring at me with an odd expression as the others returned with exotic treats positively overflowing from their arms.

"You got to try this, Axelle!" Rose exclaimed, handing me an odd-looking little box.

Cautiously, I opened the box to have a small, brown creature leap at my face. I gasped, glancing at a chocolate frog dangling off my nose. Rose giggled.

"Don't worry! It's not real– you can eat it."

The compartment was filled with laughter as I slowly and carefully took off a chunk of the frog's leg and ate it. Rose was telling the truth– it was only chocolate. The chocolate frog wasn't the only strange candy they had. Rose also showed me Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans which boasted several different flavors– some very conventional while others not so much. I tried sticking to ordinary flavors like cherry and blueberry, avoiding the ominous vomit-flavored one that James swore he'd eaten once.

I enjoyed talking to these people, though by late afternoon, my heart began racing as it was nearing time to change into my school robes. The boys left the compartment to let us change in private, joining some other boys in order to change as well. I felt as though my heart were about to leap out of my chest as the train began to slow.


End file.
